


Shits and giggles

by Sherlock_and_other_sundries



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 10:40:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6002803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock_and_other_sundries/pseuds/Sherlock_and_other_sundries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The King of Hell abducts you to protect you from his mother, leading to a strange relationship blossoming. what happens when the two of you meet again after months apart?</p><p>I tried to make this humorous and smut will come later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shits and giggles

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE GIVE ME MESSAGES TO SEND TO THE CAST OF SUPERNATURAL FOR WHEN I MEET THEM, LEAVE IN COMMENTS

It started with a gravelly British accent, the faint smell of leather under sulphur and a darkness. The darkness surrounded you, consumed you, and heightened your senses until you could feel and hear everything around you. The rope restraints tying your wrists and ankles to the legs of the velvet seated chair underneath you, the soft carpet under your feet and the clothes sticking to your skin with sweat and blood. You heard the accent, his accent, combined with other nationalities accents.

You didn’t know how long you had waited in that chair, it must’ve been days, possibly a week. Occasionally, a bottle of water was pressed to your lips and you would drink hungrily from it, not sure when, or if, you would drink again.

The blindfold was taken off on the eighth day, by a pair of calloused finger tips, attached to some long fingers, attached to a man only slightly taller than you in a tailored suit, he obviously had some money. He had a wearied face, and looked like he’d dealt with too much bullshit in his life to care anymore, he quirked an eyebrow, which was slightly… arousing? Shit, you needed to get laid.

You stayed where you were sat, although you didn’t have much of a choice, and didn’t say a thing to the demon in the tailored suit. His eyebrow twitched again, ready to make one of his trademark sarcastic comments, you cut him off

“Crowley, no offence, but fuck you, fuck your Winchester chums and fuck your bitch ass hoe of a mother, I’m fucking tired and you’re being an irritating egg in a nice suit”

You told that motherfucker. Recently, his mother, Rowena, had been hunting you down for months after she discovered your alliance to the infamous Winchester brothers. Seven years ago you had spent a short term with them, doing easy kills to keep the supernatural population at an average level, though you doubted anything was ‘average’ in this line of work.

After this, the brothers sent you home to live an apple pie life, you had had a few meaningless relationships and bought a small house for yourself, but nothing would ever compare to your previous life.

And now you were here, tied to a chair with a very sarcastic, very beautiful demon glaring into your soul with his deep brown eyes. And, to be honest, it felt more natural than the apple pie life you’d been living.

“Feel free to fuck me, I’m indifferent to you fucking my Winchester chums, but please don’t try to fuck my birth giver”, he sneered and threw a suggestive wink at you, you shivered and chewed your lip, restraining yourself from thinking dirty thoughts about this man, the demon who had killed more humans than you could count.  
“Blood hell Crowley, could you just tell me what this is all about and then drop me off at home?” you sighed tiredly, trying to make a point. He mock pouted at you and pretended to look hurt by your comment “But darling, don’t you want my company? Are you sure you want to go back to your old life? You have so much-“, he licked his lips and leaned close to you, whispering in your ear so you could feel his rough lips against your ear lobe “-potential”. 

You shuddered and this time he felt it, pulling away and giving you a knowing grin “Perfect. I need you to stay here until I take care of my mother”, you giggled and he shot a glare at you “Not in that way, love, and the innuendoes are my job, not yours”.  
After this Crowley released you from your restraints and lead you to a room slightly smaller than the room you were tied up in, which you realised must have been his own bedroom. “now, pet, I need you to stay here whilst I take care of my mother, sleep well and make sure the demons don’t bite, unless you’re into that shit, that is” he smirked whilst walking towards and out of the door.

You fell into a deep, dreamless sleep and woke up feeling like a herd of sheep had run you over and tried to assassinate you. You were served a breakfast of sugar puffs by an obviously reluctant French demon, who was later revealed to be named ‘Pierre’. You and Crowley would always joke about the passive aggressive Frenchman, claiming he was on his ‘Pierriod’. Crowley was always with you nowadays, he had finally ‘disposed’ of his bitch of a mother and was happy with manipulating his way into kissing people, which sounded kinda weird.

Crowley and yourself would often walk through the chambers of hell, o hear choruses of screams, or if that became to 2005 My Chemical Romance for you, the two of you would go and meddle with the Winchesters, although they hadn’t found out about you being Crowley’s companion yet.

And then one day that all ended, it ended with a pair of calloused fingertips, attached to long fingers which were attached to a long, slim plaid-wrapped body, and you realised how wrong you’d been. The Winchesters took you home, cared for you, and you stayed with them for a week without them asking inevitable questions and starting an inevitable shitstorm.

Once the shitstorm had ended, you settled back into the hunter’s life again, now you lived for heavy drinking, one-night stands and an untimely demise. Sam and Dean helped you readjust, they gave you a room in the bunker, which had previously belonged to a beautiful pale girl with fiery hair, an A grade student with too many responsibilities and a fallen angel with no hope.

You followed the denim clad nightmares to low grade hunts and helped with research, willing to do these things for them as long as you weren’t forced to go back to your ‘normal’ life, nothing was normal anymore, you could never go back.

Two months passed, and then your friends -who felt like brothers now- received a call from a certain ‘666’. You shivered a little and heat filled your body when you heard his voice again after the time you’d spent apart, his voice alone turned you on.

“Hello ladies.. I need a favour.. Meet me at WN26 9AT in one hour, it’s fairly close and I’d put your prettiest dress on if I were you, Sammy, we’re getting formal”.

Once the call had ended both of the plaid wrapped beans watched you, gaging your reaction to the call. “I’m going”, you grit your teeth, expecting one of them to instantly decline your wishes and make you stay at home. To your surprise, Sam nodded slowly at Dean and patted your shoulder “I know, you need to get out sometime and we can protect you if you need help, but we’ll be watching at all times”.  
You looked fairly decent after you had showered, got dressed into a mid-length black dress and put some makeup on, of course, the dress was short enough to be able to reach the hand guns strapped to the insides of your thighs, but long enough to conceal them thoroughly.

You sighed and moved to the back seat of the impala, as the boys were waiting in front. Dean let out a low whistle and winked at you playfully “Not bad, beautiful” he chuckled and swiftly started the car.


End file.
